‘You made her have an abortion?’

The two men locked eyes but Harley ignored the question. ‘You’re on thin ice,’ he said and Andrew realised their roles had completely reversed.

‘I don’t mind if you walk away,’ Andrew said, indicating towards the door.

Harley didn’t move. ‘I made it go away.’

‘So what do you need from me?’

Any trace of a smile had disappeared from the man’s face. His eyes were narrow, the rest of his features fixed. ‘I want to know who the father was.’

2

Detective Sergeant Jessica Daniel glanced up from her plate to face the man sitting opposite. She put the metal fork on the table, loudly enough to ensure he knew she wanted his attention.

‘So, Garry,’ Jessica began. ‘Who the hell is Sebastian Lowe?’

She watched Garry Ashford squirm. Despite the fact she had known the journalist for a few years, she knew he was still that little bit afraid of her.

Garry looked up from his breakfast, where a congealed fried egg yolk had blended into the leftover baked-bean juice. All that was left of his breakfast was a final piece of black pudding, which he was chewing on while swirling his hand in the air, as if pointing out to Jessica that he would answer when he had finished. She had purposely picked her moment to ask the question, so that he was at his most uncomfortable. Jessica fixed Garry with a steady stare, telling him with her eyes that she was waiting for the answer.

The journalist swallowed and started to speak before spluttering and gulping the final mouthful of tea from his mug.

‘Sorry,’ he coughed. ‘I was just finishing off.’ He smiled apologetically but Jessica didn’t relax her glare. ‘Sebastian’s newish,’ he went on. ‘He’s been working for me for around six months. I hired him but he’s just been bumped up to senior news reporter.’

‘When did you start hiring people?’ Jessica replied, failing to hide her surprise.

‘Since I was promoted to news editor.’

Jessica weighed up his response, not overly satisfied with it. ‘What’s he like? A bit of a troublemaker?’

Garry shook his head. ‘Sebastian? No, he’s a bit like I was. He gets by story to story, although he seems to come up with better stuff than I did.’

Jessica looked sideways at the man, flicking her long dark-blonde hair away from her face and wishing she had tied it back. When she had invited Garry for breakfast, she hadn’t known if she wanted to play on the fact he was scared of her, or that she was pretty sure he still fancied her – despite apparently having a girlfriend. Torn between the two, she opted for a bit of both and left her hair down.

As they waited for their food to arrive in the cafe around the corner from his newspaper’s office, Jessica hadn’t said too much. She allowed the tension to build, watching him devour a full English and deciding she would definitely be going down the ‘scare’ route. She quickly finished her sausage sandwich, wondering if the large breakfast was a usual thing for him, or if he had ordered it because she was paying.

‘Does he have better dress sense than you?’ Jessica asked.

Garry peered down at his brown corduroy trousers, before realising what he was doing. In fairness, Jessica had to admit he was looking as smart as she had ever seen him. His previously long scruffy hair had been cut short and was tidily shaped, with the goatee on his chin looking as if it was there by design, as opposed to because he hadn’t bothered to shave. His cord trousers were perhaps a little outdated but, for as long as she had known him, that seemed to be his style.

‘Why do you want to know about Seb?’ Garry asked, not taking the bait.

Jessica reached into the bag under her seat and scooped out a copy of the previous day’s Manchester Morning Herald. She pushed a ketchup bottle to one side and unfolded the paper before turning it around so Garry could see the front page, pointing at Sebastian’s byline on the lead story.

‘Did you have anything to do with this?’ she asked.

The headline read ‘FLAMING HELL’ with ‘Killer Out This Month’ underneath.

Garry must have known what was coming but he still fidgeted awkwardly. ‘I didn’t write the headline but I knew about Seb’s story.’

Jessica pushed the paper away. ‘Didn’t anyone think about the implications? What if this guy gets hurt when they let him out of prison?’

The journalist sank into his seat and Jessica began to feel a little sorry for him. ‘That’s exactly what I said,’ Garry insisted. ‘I told my editor that. I told Seb that. I said we should be careful if we were going to run it.’

From her earlier dealings with Garry, Jessica knew he had a pretty good grasp of what was right and wrong. Or, more specifically, what she considered to be right or wrong. She wasn’t as prejudiced against the media as some at the station but, as with all professions, she knew there were good guys and bad guys. Garry was one of the better ones. He had certainly helped her in the past, although she was loath to admit it – especially to him.

‘I’ve been assigned to keep an eye on Martin when he comes out of prison,’ Jessica said. ‘It’s not even our job but after this,’ she pointed to the paper again, ‘we don’t have much choice.’

Garry looked a little apologetic, his eyes slightly wider than before. ‘You have to admit it’s a good story.’

Jessica knew it was and had made that exact point in the staff briefing the previous day. It was probably that which prompted Detective Chief Inspector Jack Cole to give her the job of escorting Martin Chadwick when he left prison in a few days’ time. Unknown to Garry – she hoped – everything had been moved forward by a day in an attempt to avoid any further publicity.

‘Where did Sebastian get the story from?’ Jessica asked, fully aware Garry would never give her the answer. She was curious because the day of a prisoner’s release wasn’t the type of information that should have been freely available. All they had managed to come up with in the briefing was that the second subject of the article – who would have been told by the prison service that Martin was due to be released – had taken it to the media.

Garry shook his head. ‘You know I won’t tell you that.’

‘Was it Anthony Thompson?’ Jessica asked, hoping Garry’s body language would give him away. As he had grown older, the man had clearly learned his lessons from dealing with her. He sat impassively, refusing to answer. ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Jessica added. ‘I know Anthony might have every reason to want to hurt Martin – but flagging it up for the world to see isn’t going to do anyone any good.’

Garry nodded slowly and Jessica could see he agreed with her, although the congealed egg yolk on his chin did detract slightly from the serious conversation she was trying to cultivate. She leant across the table and wiped the yellow liquid from Garry’s face as he writhed away from her. ‘You’re not my mum,’ he said with a smile.

Jessica grinned back, the atmosphere lost. ‘Believe it or not, I didn’t invite you to breakfast to simply bollock you. Whoever this Sebastian is should do his homework. There are mistakes in the piece and, although it’s not my job to clean up after you, my boss and I thought it would be much better if we gave you some proper facts for next time.’

‘On the record?’

Jessica shook her head. ‘You give me your source and I’ll give you something on the record.’ Garry smiled back but didn’t answer.

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Off the record it is. Have you got a pen?’

The journalist stacked his empty plate on top of Jessica’s and moved them into the middle of the table, before fumbling in a shoulder bag hanging over the back of his chair and taking out a notepad and pen.